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We were made by the Gods. When Thunor swung his axe against the sword of Tyre, the sparks exploded towards the Earth and there they looked to the stars in owe, wanting to go there, for in that first moment, they knew they belonged amongst them. When Frige looked upon them She knew the future of their hearts and spun the clouds over them to keep them on the Earth. For Frige knew the future of the world and the need for a tribe who's will could alter the darkness lying dormant in the lands across the sea and in her Wisdom she whispered secrets to the Earth and the Earth agreed, on one condition. The Nervii had to be mortal, for if not, they would conquer the Gods as well.
And so it came that the Nervii took their place amongst the lands of man and build their houses on the Earth they came from. Hundreds of years went by and the Nervii grew stronger every day, for the need for glory was in their blood. The will of their minds wanted to protect the people against those who wanted to destroy them. All this gave way to the warrior tribe it became later. A society based on respect and fame. Where the greater Leader is the one who made a difference and is renowned for it. Where Warriors decide the way of their people and where the bards pave the road to the afterlife amongst the ancestors.
And now the King of the Nervii speaks of a new King. A King who is favoured by a High-King, a High-King who is favoured by the Gods, Gods who he does not know yet, but are Gods all the same. This new King of the Usipetii has been heard in tales of bards and has been given lands in the lands we live in and this new King has called for muster and our King will answer. His firstborn son will lead his warband towards this new King and will see the truth of the stories. The Firstborn will call for his warriors and his chosen. He will go to the unknown lands where his Ovate speaks of in strange riddle's and horror, typical for a cursed being she is, but still, the ancestors could be whispering truth through her sickening nightmares. Be it so, the Firstborn will muster his elite warriors, whose shields are red of paint and blood and decorated with gold and silver, taken from foe already conquered. He will ask his healer, who is touched by Gods and land alike to favour him with powers of seething wyrd. Bards will follow knowing the blood that resides within this band of Nervii and the change of heroism to come. And last some Noble's will join hoping to gain favours by the old King, helping his eldest son in a future non dare to dream of and in their wake, perhaps, will join those whose name and song is not jet heard off, but whose heart beat in songs of valour, blood and fame, for even a beggar can be King if his actions are worthy of that of a King.
Tales of malformed lands and cursed forests dwell amongst the man and women. Whispers of wars and trouble, awakened by infamous Black-shields, stern the banners as we walk towards them. We shall see this King of the Usipetii, Warrior who stood against the host of Balor, favoured by a High-King, chosen by the lands, his name whispered by all who knew him. The Firstborn knows the trouble ahead, knows of the thrust and loyalty he must have amongst his men and knows that there, in those cursed black lands lies the opportunity for all, to become that, what the Nervii were made for. There, round the tents of this new King sounds the promise of tales in your honour and the road to bloody deeds which will be remembered and seen by our Ancestors between the stars. These new lands will see the will of the Nervii, will tremble before our shields when we take the fields of battle. They will acknowledge our strength when they see our banners high, talking the wind over a vast plane of dead battered enemies. And then the nightmares of our ovate will silence and she will hear the laughter of our ancestors when they look down upon us and we will see their eyes and in them know that our place is safe amongst them. Yes, this new place screams out for our heritage and we will seek it out.
The men speak of dealings, speak of spies, speak of bindings already made. The Firstborn knows this, knows that his Father has send him not on a fools errant, but on a strategic voyage wherein strength is calculated, and authority is mastered. Probably the old King has send spies amongst us, hoping that they could soothe his firstborn into righteous actions, but the heart of this warband sounds loud and though there are many ways to dominion, not all will favour the old King. But in these lands of countless opportunities, the will of an old, absent King, is lessened by the challenges of easy conquest. The King has warned us of the other tribes. Of the earth dwelling Menapii, who's powers dwell in the earth and the Fae who they live with and the Frisii, who's warriors we know already to be strong, as ours, but also other tribes who dwell in those dark lands. Of creatures capable of eating away your being, so it may never join the ancestors and of the ever present Fomor, the foe of foes, who's everlasting presence still hunts us from their frozen holds on their frozen seas. Where ruthless creatures dwell from the sea, their eyes old as the earth themselves, the voices not heart for in hundreds of years. Have they been summoned as well, or has the King of the Usipetii's other history with them. All will be revealed when we arrive and when the sun emerges above the earth, its rays will strengthen those who have earned it.